


A Matter of Healing

by AutumnVine



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bottom Edelgard von Hresvelg, Established Relationship, F/F, Healing, Injury, Kissing, Sexual healing? Yes and No, She's Not Willing to Admit it, Teasing, Top My Unit | Byleth, slight praise kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 10:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnVine/pseuds/AutumnVine
Summary: After receiving an injury on the battlefield, Emperor Edelgard finds herself forced into resting and recovering. When she's unwilling to do either, Byleth has to step in with her own brand of persuasion.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 104





	A Matter of Healing

Edelgard hates being put on bedrest. 

As much as she doesn’t feel comfortable likening it to actual imprisonment - something she’s unfortunately all too familiar with - that doesn’t stop her from internally protesting and complaining against the very notion. 

One arrow. One stupid bolt of ammunition right to the arm, and now she was considered incapacitated. So what if it had shattered the bone, or that she lost a considerable amount of blood in the process? There was far too much work that needed doing for her to just lie in bed all day. 

The problem, she quickly discovers, is that apparently even the Adrestian Emperor doesn’t have any authority in the infirmary. There, everybody heeds the orders of one Manuela Casagranda. Even her. 

So all Edelgard can do is grumble when, once again, she’s caught trying to sneak out despite her injuries and forcibly made to lay back down. 

“You do understand that disobeying my orders is considered _treason_ , yes?” 

Manuela just snorts. “Save it dear. I used to serve the Archbishop, remember?” She waves dismissively. “You’re positively tame in comparison.” 

“Well, I completely object to this treatment.” 

“Noted.” Manuela smiles, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Now are you going to try again, or do I need to get creative with how I keep you in that damn bed?” 

Before she can respond with her usual scathing wit, the door to the monastery infirmary opens, and Commander Byleth Eisner steps through. Tucking her officer’s cap under one arm, her long blue hair flows over one shoulder in an imitation-braid, something Edelgard has to admit looks good on her. 

Though she usually thinks that about anything involving her former professor. 

“It’s alright Manuela,” she says, getting right into it without a greeting. “I’ll take over from here. I think you’ve got a shift change coming up anyway.” 

Grinning somewhat slyly, Manuela quirks an eyebrow to her colleague. “You sure? I’ve just about had my hands full keeping this one,” she points to Edelgard, who glares back, “from ripping open her wounds again.” 

Byleth smiles, looking to her old student with a knowing warmth. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure our little emperor here doesn’t go anywhere.” 

“Traitor,” Edelgard hisses. 

With a laugh, Manuela nods her head. “Very well then. Though I should point out that she’ll need a healing regiment every three hours to help mend the tears and cracks in the marrow and ligaments.” 

“That’s fine. I’m fairly proficient in faith magic,” Byleth points out. It was certainly true; she had taken to the skill with a considerable ease both before and during the War of Unification. “I think I can handle being Her Majesty’s doctor for a while.” 

“You’re grossly under-qualified,” Edelgard retorts, growling under her breath as Byleth’s smile only grows. Manuela departs soon thereafter, but not before giving her a quick wink and a final, firm order to remain in bed. 

She has every intention of doing the opposite. 

Making a slight show of it, Byleth inspects the medical equipment in the room first before joining Edelgard at the side of her bed, sitting down on the edges. She tilts her head, looking at the younger woman with a considerable fondness. 

“El…” 

As expected, the name forces the emperor to break her protest and glance in her direction. Even she can’t help but soften as their eyes meet, lavender against blue. Reaching out, Byleth’s hand gently caresses the side of her face, and Edelgard is unable to stop herself from leaning into it. 

“You know I love you, right?” 

Edelgard shivers at those words, suddenly feeling the weight of the ring she wore on her left hand. No matter how many times this truth passed between them, it felt no less powerful with each exchange. 

“… I know, Byleth. I love you too.” 

Another smile. “And you know that it’s because I love you that I want to make sure you heal properly, yes?” 

Damn, how was she supposed to argue against that? 

“I…” 

Byleth’s hand slowly draws lines across Edelgard’s cheeks, tracing the faint flushing pattern her close proximity always induced. “El, I promised Manuela I would enforce your bedrest. Short of actually binding you to the bed, I will do what it takes to follow through.” She playfully pinches her. “Don’t you want to make this easy for me?” 

“Since when have I ever made things easy for you?” Edelgard replies, causing Byleth to laugh. 

“Fair, my love. I like to think our relationship is defined by the trouble we cause each other.”

Smiling now too, Edelgard relaxes more fully into the pale cream sheets. “And yet here we both are.” She raises her own hand to cup the older woman’s cheek in turn. “I’m grateful you care so much about my wellbeing, but I refuse to simply lay here and do nothing.”

“Even if I asked nicely?” 

“Your words cannot dissuade me, Byleth,” she replies with a scoff. “I will free myself from this wretched-” 

But Byleth leans forward and captures her lips with a kiss, cutting her off. Any semblance of disobedience swiftly drains out of her body, and the bed suddenly seems a lot more comfortable. 

“That’s a good girl,” the commander whispers, clearly enjoying how red of a blush it produces on Edelgard’s face. There was a reason their friends joked that Byleth was actually the most powerful person in Fódlan, but only when they kissed. 

“Don’t,” Edelgard whines from beneath the praise and affection. If she lets this go on for any longer, she’ll completely lose the willpower to fight back. Besides, she wasn’t going to re-injure herself just reading and signing documents. Not again, anyway. 

The hand on her cheek moves up, now running through the silky white strands of her hair. Byleth doesn’t stop kissing her, effectively pinning the younger woman down with her expression of love. 

“Are you going to keep being good for me?” Byleth asks, letting the small space between them fill with her rhetorical question. 

_Yes_ is what Edelgard wants to shout as she takes in the taste of her fiancé’s lips. But the inherent rebellious soul that dwelled within her still attempts to put up some semblance of a struggle. “…The second you cease kissing me, I will defeat you,” she mumbles.

“Oh?” She could feel Byleth grinning. “Then I guess I can’t stop, huh?” 

And she doesn’t, only ramping up her affections in their intensity. And Edelgard, traitorous heart that she was, decides that if she was going to be stuck like this with the woman she loved, she would have to fight this battle in a different way. 

Raising her uninjured arm, she easily slips her hand underneath Byleth’s shirt and grabs for her chest. But the blue-haired ex-mercenary casually swats it away, clicking her tongue playfully in response. 

“Hmmm, who said you could do that yet?” Byleth giggles to herself, clearly enjoying the role she was playing. “You have to prove that you’re going to be good before I let you touch me.” 

A high-pitched whining noise forces itself out of Edelgard’s throat, but she’s too frustrated to care. With a growl she pushes back, but both Byleth’s lips and hand continue to be strong opponents. 

“I am your emperor,” she reminds her. “You will do as I say, or suffer the consequences.” She was only half-joking. 

Pretending to think it over for a moment, Byleth nods. “Okay, that’s fair. I’ll listen to _one_ command. But only one.” 

_Let me get back to work,_ is what Edelgard wants to say. But instead what comes out is “Take off your shirt.” 

… She wants to slam a palm into her own face. Of all the things… Evidently she hadn’t gotten over the blood loss entirely just yet, as her brain seemed to be in short supply. 

“Oh, is that all?” Byleth makes a show of shrugging off her tunic, letting it fall to the floor without care. Left in only her chest bindings, she lowers herself back over Edelgard, who was starting to think this might have been the right choice. “You’re so predictable, my El. Though I should point out that I’m still not going to let you play with me.” 

Okay, maybe she should have asked for that instead. 

“Byleth, I am the Adrestian-” But she’s cut off with a finger to her mouth. 

“What am I, Edelgard?” Byleth asks instead. “What role did you give me on the Strike Force?”

“Commander,” she answers without hesitation. “I made you the commander.” 

“And I am therefore in charge of the Black Eagle Strike Force, including everyone in it?” 

“Yes Professor, you are.” Edelgard tries her hardest not bite down on her lower lip - she knew exactly where Byleth’s line of questioning was headed. 

“Are you a member of the Black Eagle Strike Force, Edelgard?” 

A reluctant nod. “I am…” 

Byleth leans forward, a victorious glint in her eyes. Ready to deliver the coup de grâce, she grins. “So therefore I am also in charge of you?” 

This time she refuses to answer, which only serves to declare her own defeat. Laughing softly, Byleth kisses her on the forehead, then smiles. 

“Will you do as I say and stay in bed like the doctor ordered? Because I’d hate to have to flex my authority and discipline you for insubordination.” There isn’t a hint of sternness in her voice, and Edelgard takes the joke for what it is, relaxing a little more. 

Still, she wouldn’t allow herself to go out like this. Not without one last effort to salvage something from the failed battle. “I want to negotiate terms.” 

“I don’t think you’re in a position to demand anything but an unconditional surrender,” Byleth amusedly points out. 

As it stood, Byleth Eisner was the only person to have ever defeated Edelgard in battle, both literally and not. So even though it went against her every instinct, the emperor eventually nods. “Okay… I give up.” At least there was less shame in that. “I’ll do as Manuela instructed and stay put.” 

Byleth genuinely looks relieved to hear her say that, and she realizes that maybe this hadn’t entirely been a game for the other woman. With a twinge of guilt, Edelgard imagines how she must have felt at her initial injury. 

“Thank you, El.” The professor tilts her head. “Do you… would you still like to touch me?” 

“I would, my teacher.” Edelgard has to admit that her eyes never really left her fiancé’s bust. 

Giving her another kiss, Byleth guides Edelgard’s eager hand upwards and to her chest. Both adore this part of their intimacy, and she gratefully reflects on having been able to keep her love safe and also happy. 

“You’re such a good girl, El,” she whispers, meaning it fully. 

This time Edelgard doesn’t protest.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, um... I'm not a doctor, so please, if you or a romantic partner is injured, listen to the professionals. Which Byleth isn't, so don't follow her example.


End file.
